


people are strange when you're a stranger

by callunavulgari



Series: Dark Month Collection [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 06:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna only came to the party because her best friend asked her to. Story of her life really, but Anna just wasn’t the type to let down her friends, especially not ones looking to get laid right after a particularly bad breakup. So she let Becka wrestle her into last year’s disney princess costume, uncomfortable with the way Jasmine’s two piece bared her mid-drift to the chilly fall air. The bracelets clanked too much, pinching her thick arm hair as she walked—the necklace and earrings were both too heavy, and Anna’s head was full of half-written equations.</p><p>Halloween should never fall on weekdays, especially not the night before a calculus test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	people are strange when you're a stranger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostoftheMotif](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostoftheMotif/gifts).



> Dark Month 2013: Day 2. Ghostofthemotif asked for Castiel; halloween-themed; his first costume party. Cute, quick, and easy, woo.

Anna only came to the party because her best friend asked her to. Story of her life really, but Anna just wasn’t the type to let down her friends, especially not ones looking to get laid right after a particularly bad breakup. So she let Becka wrestle her into last year’s disney princess costume, uncomfortable with the way Jasmine’s two piece bared her mid-drift to the chilly fall air. The bracelets clanked too much, pinching her thick arm hair as she walked—the necklace and earrings were both too heavy, and Anna’s head was full of half-written equations.  
  
Halloween should never fall on weekdays, especially not the night before a calculus test.  
  
The party was about as entertaining as she thought it would be. Frat parties really weren’t her thing in general. Most people looked at her and the first thing they saw was the color of her skin—after that it was a toss up over what they would think first: exotic beauty or terrorist. Which was stupid and she made it a point to inform them so.  
  
Fraternities tended to be the worst about it, because they didn’t think one or the other—they thought both. If she’d wanted drunken white boys trying to get into her pants, she would have asked. As it is, when she turns their slurred come-ons down, they scowl and bitch and call her some truly rotten names.  
  
She loses sight of Becka not even thirty minutes in, after her friend is lead away by some smiling, semi-attractive guy. And then it’s just Anna, scowling into the punch bowl and wondering why she even bothered.  
  
“It’s rather loud in here,” some guy shouts in her ear, and when she turns, expecting another asshole, she gets some older dude in a trenchcoat instead. She stares at him—at the plush lips, the messy dark hair, the perpetual squint, like he’s got something in his eyes. Most notable though, is how the corners of his eyes are faintly wrinkled around the edges—the start of the crow’s feet that her dad has.  
  
“There’s no way you’re a college student,” she says, and the guy blinks at her. She has to repeat herself twice, the second time all but yelling in his ear. When he finally gets it, he just looks confused.  
  
“I’m an angel of the lord,” the weird man in the trenchcoat says, and she gives him a look, up and down—no halo, no wings, just the weird tax accountant hobo outfit.  
  
“If you’re an angel, I’m Prince Ali,” she says, laughing. The man doesn’t seem to get the reference, because his frown just deepens a little. She shakes her head, reaching out to clasp him by the shoulder. He’s weird, sure, but he doesn’t look dangerous. Honestly, she’s pretty sure he might have been dropped on his head one too many times when he was little. Guy’s probably just confused, so she gently tugs him in the direction of the door and out onto the front porch beyond.  
  
There are still people outside—there always are at parties like this—but it’s quieter without the booming bass of whatever shitty dubstep song they’re playing inside and the moonlight lets her see him better anyway.  
  
“I’m Anna,” she says, because if the guy’s as drunk as he looks, there’s no way he’ll be able to pronounce Annapurna with a straight face. He nods, gravely, and irrationally, it makes her want to giggle. He looks so damn serious.  
  
“Castiel,” he says, which makes her blink for a moment before shrugging it off. Who is she to judge people for their weird names, her parents named her after a food goddess. “My sister was once named Anna.”  
  
She smiles at him, taking a seat on what looks like an empty keg and digging her cigarettes from her pocket. She doesn’t smoke often, but she makes exceptions for situations like this. “Is she not named Anna now or something?” she asks, taking a deep drag and rolling the flavor against her tongue.  
  
“No, she was killed by my brother Michael,” he says. His voice is tinged with sadness, but his face is still blank. “In my brother’s defense, she was trying to kill a friend of mine at the time.”  
  
Definitely dropped on his head. It’s either that or he’s legitimately crazy. Or just really well adjusted, maybe. Before she has a chance to reply, another too-old-for-college dude shows up, smarmy grin in place. He’s… familiar in a way that she can’t really place, something about the innocuous plaid shirt and the tilt of his grin. Maybe it’s the leather jacket. She once had a boyfriend with a jacket like that.  
  
“Hey there, Cas, look at that, you found a Jasmine. Five gold stars, good taste,” he winks at her, and if she were any other girl she might have giggled and blushed. But she isn’t any other girl and his tone is just shy of ‘undressing you in my mind’, so she just raises an eyebrow at him, pleased when he tones down the ‘charm’.  
  
“Anyway, we gotta go. Like, _now_ ,” he hisses, tugging on the sleeve of Castiel’s trenchcoat.’’  
  
Realization only dawns when they’re joined by another man—ridiculously tall, floppy hair, and endearing brown eyes. “You’re supposed to be the Winchesters!” she says loudly, pointing between them. She laughs, delighted, when they both turn incredulous looks on her.  
  
“I didn’t know that anyone in this entire county had read the books! Are you excited about the movie?” she continues, flicking her dead cigarette into the bushes.  
  
“Movie?” the shorter one asks faintly. He looks a little dizzy.  
  
“Didn’t you hear? Warner Bros bought the rights to the series. It’s gonna be a movie. I hear Tom Cruise is playing Dean.”  
  
“I’m going to kill Chuck,” she thinks she hears the shorter one mutter. She shrugs it off, wondering if they’re some of the really die-hard book fans. Not everyone’s happy about the movie, after all.  
  
“We really do have to leave,” the taller dude (Dean?) says gently, giving her an apolegetic look. Nope, that one’s definitely supposed to be Sam. Or else he's just okay with being out of character.  
  
She nods, resisting the sudden urge to hug them. She has to remind herself that she’s a smart girl and that it’s never a good idea to go around hugging strange men who are probably twice her age, no matter how nerdy they are. “It was nice meeting you, Castiel,” she says, grinning at him around the other two. She pats him on the hand.  
  
“I’m really sorry about your sister and uh, your brother, I guess, since he’s probably in jail now.”  
  
Castiel inclines his head in acknowledgment, then says, “Yes, both him and my other brother are trapped together for eternity.”  
  
So weird, she thinks, watching them walk away. An asshole trips and spills beer all over her, and by the time she looks back up, they’re gone.  
  
They find the body of the grinning guy who’d dragged Becka off an hour later, a gaping hole in his chest—his dead, glassy eyes a weird shade of red that she takes for contacts until she realizes that there’s no edge.  
  
Becka’s shivering in the corner, naked and crying, so one of the nicer guys lends her a coat.  
  
Nobody understands why Anna gasps and goes quiet when Becka describes the guy’s who saved her—the two who pulled Billy the grinning asshole off of her when she started feeling dizzy. She doesn’t remember how he died, which will probably be a problem when the cops get involved, but for now, it doesn’t matter.  
  
Anna sits with her friend, shushing her faintly as they wait for the ambulance to arrive.  
  
She thinks of the two men dressed up as two obscure characters and their weird friend, and wonders just what part they played in all of this.  
  
She closes her eyes, shaking their images from her mind and replacing them with unwritten equations. She’s got a math test in the morning. She doesn’t have time to worry about the supernatural.


End file.
